This is When My Chanca Flies
Quoting Cartman: Respect my authority.
Welcome to the LOL Mom, my new personal essay series where I share #boymomlifebelike moments. I'll get to tickle your funny bone all while preserving memories. It'll be like our little time capsule. And potentially a way to embarrass Evan in the future when he's old enough. It's a win-win.
I rarely misbehaved as a child. Much like Evan, I was timid and feisty only when provoked, like when an adult asked me to give them a hug despite my Resting Kid Bitch Face.
I wasn’t malcriada. I’ve just always had boundaries. When I say “no,” I mean no in every sense of the word. I am rarely persuaded. And God help the person who keeps pushing despite my mind being made up. This is when I blow like a helium balloon that’s been out in the heat for too long. This is when my chancla flies across the room - and I rarely miss my target.
Fortunately, Mami has always respected my boundaries. Despite her traditional Dominican values and upbringing, she raised us her way and, I believe, took each of our personalities into account. Sure, she was strict as fuck about boys, sex, dating, and makeup. But different from her Dominican mom counterparts, nonetheless. For example, Mami never told me I had to wait to have sex before marriage.
“Espera a concocer a un muchacho bueno y serio,” she advised.
Translation #1: Don’t give your cookie to a man unless you’re in a committed relationship. (Sorry Ma! That ship has sailed!)
Translation #2: Don’t be a ho.
Another surprising thing about my mother is that she didn’t believe that girls should be in the kitchen and that boys should lay around, waiting to be served. My brother, my sister, and I only helped my mother clean right before a big family gathering during the holidays. And she never babied my brother because he is the youngest and her only son. In fact, Mami coddled us all in the ways that we each needed.
I didn’t learn how to cook until I went to college when I frantically called Mami to teach me how to make white rice because UMass Amhert was hell-bent on starving me! (Lies. I just didn't like anything they served in the DC.) And Mami has always supported my love of reading, writing, and music. She drove me to the library every 3 weeks so I could borrow more books (I read one book a week). She purchased a typewriter so I could write my first book (the Dominican version of Sweet Valley High was NOT a literary success). And Mami even let me join my school’s chorus and band at an early age.
I appreciate that Mami let me be me. That she didn’t and still doesn’t pressure me into anything, whether that be an activity, a choice, or even a meal, that I was not and am not ready for. This is how I choose to raise Evan. I feel him out and let him lead all while encouraging him to try new things and to not give up. But I still respect and honor his boundaries and his readiness.
Take sleep training for example, which is another story in itself. At 7 years old, Evan is now finally sleeping by himself, in his bed, the entire night. I didn’t force him out of my bed. I didn’t make him cry it out. I just knew it was time. As a woman and a mother, I always know. My intuition is a force and I always listen, just like I hear and see Evan.
I connect to his sweet, funny, sensitive, and feisty nature because he reminds me so much of myself. And I remember exactly what I needed as a kid- and still need - from the people in my life: support, radical acceptance, and unconditional love.
So I don’t push when he doesn’t want to share his food or when he doesn’t want to speak to an adult (as long as he’s not rude). I don’t reprimand him for needing to feel people out like the cautious and private Cancerian that he is. I don’t even get upset when he chooses to tell me things on his own time. Because if I push, his chancla will fly. So I give him the space and the love that he needs when he needs it and how he needs it because of who he is.
A little more sex…
Get your panties in a wad (just like my momma would) by reading my first (and not last) erotic novel, Cocktails and Strategy, starring Clara and Terrance. Below is a snippet (be sure your literate kids ain’t peeking over your shoulder) cause Clara’s a ho - and I’m living vicariously through her!
Clara sauntered over to me with tight lips and her arms crossed. Her lip curled as her eyes scanned my broad shoulders and chest, and stopped right at my dick.
“Hmmm,” she moaned.
I didn’t realize I was hard. Embarrassed, I cupped my dick with my hands.
“No. Let me see.”
I obeyed. I dropped my hands without pause. It was all hers.
Read the first chapter of Cocktails and Strategy here.
Now, this is where I use mind control to get you to…
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Till we meet again! So, Thursday.
xoxo,
Sujeiry